


suffocate my lungs to breathe

by staringatstars



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Gen, Juno Steel Gets a Hug, Juno Steel Needs a Hug, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Rita is a Good Friend (Penumbra Podcast), Season 3 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staringatstars/pseuds/staringatstars
Summary: Juno knows it's only a dream. Rita is fine. She's safe.But before he can breathe again, he has to know for sure.
Relationships: Rita & Juno Steel
Comments: 5
Kudos: 126





	suffocate my lungs to breathe

The instant the idea of harming Rita entered his head, Juno had known something was wrong, and he’d fought. Fought the impulse, the influence, and regained control. In his dreams, though, it doesn’t always work like that. His hands reach for her throat, stopping her stream-of-consciousness chatter mid-sentence, and her pulse flutters under his palms. He imagines a small bird caught in his grasp, and begins to squeeze…

This is when he wakes up, sweat-drenched and gasping. The sheets are twisted around his torso, constricting, and he can’t get enough air.

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.

What happens after that?

He vaults out of the double-tier bed, hitting the ground with enough force to send a lightning bolt of pain through his knees, then starts sprinting out of the room, bursting into the hallway with disheveled hair and wild eyes like a mad man on a rampage. He might have passed Vespa in the hall. It’s hard to tell when his brain is screaming too loud to hear but he thinks she called after him. 

Turns out, it was time for breakfast. Guess the crew must have let him sleep in.

They're gathered in and around the kitchen, picking at oatmeal, when Juno stumbles in, shoving past Ransom after he didn't get out of his way quick enough. With a classy entrance like that, it’s only natural that all eyes turn towards him, though at the moment he’s so past the point of caring it’s almost laughable. 

Rita’s sitting next to Jet. A second ago she’d been regaling the big guy with a play-by-play of her favorite anthology-styled romantic comedy, and then her boss had burst into the room, leaving her jaw hanging as the gears in her head switched. 

All at once, her mouth snaps closed, and she rises out of the chair, approaching him slowly. “Morning, Mista Steel,” she says, loud and jovial as always. The relief Juno feels from hearing it is almost enough to knock him off his feet, and he’s pretty sure he sways because all it takes is a blink and she’s so much closer than she was. “Is there anything I can get ya? Some orange juice? Buddy made oatmeal today and I don’t really like oatmeal but Jet says if you add honey it’s not so bad and honestly I’m inclined to agree. I mean, it’s still not my first choice of breakfast food, but I don’t think it’s my last, either, you know?”

By the time the wash of her words slows down, Juno no longer feels like he’s drowning. She’s about a foot away from him, her arms outstretched as though she doesn’t quite know what to do with him, except he knows better. Knows _her_ better. She’s waiting for him to make a move, to let her know where the boundaries are. 

“Are you okay? I thought…” Another wave of dizziness crashed into him at the memory of his hands wrapped around her throat, the beat of her pulse racing beneath his fingertips. It hits him especially hard in the knees, and he falters. Luckily, Buddy grabs him by the shoulder before he can become reacquainted with the ground - _Hey, it’s been a while since I’ve collapsed. How ya been?_ \- and he uses the opportunity to suck down air until the worst of it passes. When he’s sure he’s not going to pass out like a Victorian maiden, he gives her a grateful nod and the reassuring pressure withdraws. 

Ransom’s close, watching Buddy with an inscrutable expression, but whatever the hell his problem is Juno can deal with it later. 

He focuses on Rita, taking in her blatant worry with a familiar twist of sickening guilt. After pushing out a sigh that wasn’t even remotely convincing and really wasn’t meant to be, he opens up his arms and she runs into him, wrapping herself around him in an embrace that banishes any remains of his nightmare back to his screwed up subconscious where it belongs. 

“Woah, Rita,” Juno chuckles, “loosen up on the death grip, will ya? Some of us need to breathe.”

There was no indication that she’d heard him, though that could have been because it was hard to hear with her head buried in his shoulder. “I’m okay, Mista Steel. Are _you_ okay? You look pretty shooken up.”

“I’m…” He fights down the urge to say he was fine. New Juno, new rules - only say you’re fine if you mean it. “I’ve been better?” The last word pitches up like it’s a question and he can’t help wincing. “But it’s… It was just a bad dream.” Her arms tighten around him and he pats her head, letting himself soften with affection like a marshmallow held over the fire, “I’m sorry if I scared you, Rita.”

He means it. He always does.


End file.
